


Wishes

by 100demons



Category: Gangsta. (Manga)
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 08:57:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5660470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/100demons/pseuds/100demons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dark shadowed door came briefly into mind: a thin, bandaged hand just barely visible in the narrow crack between the edge of the door and the frame, and Nicolas’s bent head, eyelashes dark against his pale cheek, reaching out to clasp the unknown. <i>The last girl who stayed with them almost died, you know.</i></p><p>“Yes,” Alex said, soft. “I’d like to help.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wishes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [etothey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/etothey/gifts).



Alex was in the middle of folding up the blanket when the door to the flat swung open with a clatter and Worick stumbled in, reeking of smoke and sour wine. In the bright light of the morning, he looked haggard and rumpled, the unforgiving sun highlighting the lines on his face and the red of his bloodshot eye.

“Good morning,” Alex said, after a long moment, and carefully placed the blanket down on the couch.

“Mornin’,” Worick grimaced, looking painfully sober. A cloud drifted past the window and the light flickered briefly; he visibly winced, lifting a hand up to shade his face.

Alex hid a grin behind a curtain of hair as she headed towards the small kitchen. “I’ll get you some coffee,” she announced, stopping on the way to pop into the bathroom to grab the bulk-size bottle of painkillers.

“Oh, you divine merciful goddess, we _definitely_ don’t pay you enough.” Worick’s voice was soft and muffled, and as Alex walked back into his view, she noticed that he'd managed to stumble into the apartment and onto the couch, his face and most of his front covered by the blanket she had just folded. He lay sprawled across the seat with an easy grace, leather loafers discarded haphazardly on the floor. There was a small hole in the heel of one green paisley sock, propped up on one overstuffed arm of the couch.

“You don’t pay me at all,” Alex said mildly as she stepped into the kitchen proper and Worick laughed in a low, rough voice. She filled up the electric kettle and set it to boil, then grabbed a chipped mug, spooning in a generous portion of instant coffee crystals.

She lifted up the bottle of painkillers up in the air, squinting to read the tiny directions in the light.

TAKE 1 PILL (2 FOR MAX STRENGTH) EVERY FOUR HOURS, NO MORE THAN 8 PILLS PER 24 HRS RECOMMENDED.

Remembering the way Worick lay corpse-like on the couch, Alex decided that two would be best. The pills were small and white, looking no different from her own meds, or Nicolas’s for that matter. One pill poison, two pills healing, three pills and Barry’s grinning face, his mouth a cruel bloody rent on his broken face, dark gray rivulets of brain matter running down his face--

The kettle gave off a sharp whistling noise and turned itself off, job completed.

Alex folded her brown fingers around the painkillers, obscuring them from view.

 

* * *

 

Worick wriggled out of his cocoon just as Alex reached out towards him, coffee and pills cradled precariously in her hands. His long blond hair stuck out every which way, crackling with static electricity as he looked up at her with a tired, but grateful eye.

“Thanks,” he said shortly, and his hands brushed hers as he cupped the hot mug of coffee, easily palming the painkillers and downing them a slurp.

Alex caught the faint scent of crushed lilies as he leaned back into the couch, breathing out deeply.

“How was last night?” she asked delicately.

“Work was fine,” Worick shrugged dismissively with a shoulder. “Great wine though-- definitely went through a couple of bottles by the end of the night.” He squinted into the murky depths of his coffee. “There was the Merlot with dinner, then some kind of sangria back at her place,” he muttered. “I think we ended up raiding her husband’s liquor cabinet too, I definitely remember having a taste of something peaty... Christ.”

He rubbed at his eyepatch with the heel of his other hand. “Fuck, I can’t think with this on. You don’t mind if I…?”

Alex felt oddly pleased that Worick felt comfortable enough to ask. She gestured for him to continue and kept her eyes averted as he unwound the leather from his head, letting it fall onto the his lap. He dropped his head automatically forward, his long hair half-shielding the left side of his face.

“Hm… oh, Nic’s gonna be pissed at me again for forgetting. You’re not doing anything today, right?”

Alex gave him a wry look. “Not exactly, no,” she said, “other than taking calls. What do you have in mind?”

“Dr. Theo’s roped Nic into doing deliveries again and it sounded like he needed a hand. You up for it?”

A dark shadowed door came briefly into mind: a thin, bandaged hand just barely visible in the narrow crack between the edge of the door and the frame, and Nicolas’s bent head, eyelashes dark against his pale cheek, reaching out to clasp the unknown. _The last girl who stayed with them almost died, you know._

“Yes,” Alex said, soft. “I’d like to help.”

 

* * *

 

 

Nicolas was waiting in the shaded alley behind Dr. Theo’s clinic, hand arms filled with crinkled brown paper bags. His black eyes swept across her dismissively as she rounded the corner, the tilt of his brow faintly irritated.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Alex panted, leaning her hands against her thighs. “Worick forgot to tell me in time and then there was an automobile accident in District 6 that held up traffic for ages. I ran here as fast as I could.”

His brows drew together tightly, a deep furrow forming in between them. _Is he o_ _k?_ , he signed, slow and exaggerated enough for her to follow.

“Oh, yes,” Alex said, “he was just hungover. _Really_ hungover,” she amended, remembering Worick’s pale, tired face, and the shades drawn across all the windows in the flat.

Nicolas snorted, a rough, wild noise, and Alex couldn’t help but grin up at him.

“Here, let me take some,” she said, reaching out towards him. He unceremoniously handed her a handful of paper bags and then set off, his long legs easily eating up the distance. Alex had to hurry to catch up to him, wishing in retrospect that she had remembered to bring a hair-tie. The air was hot and humid, her hair heavy and sticky against her neck and shoulders.

They spent the rest of the afternoon wandering through Ergastulum’s back alleys and paths in a slow, circuitous patterns, Alex steady on Nicolas’s heels. They passed through apartments crammed with dozens of families, metal tags silver-bright against their chests; the back rooms of certain bars stocked with moonshine, guns with the serial numbers filed off, and street grade Celebrer; office buildings, where solemn faced men and women met them in bathrooms and back streets, any hint of a metal tag hidden beneath layers of staid clothing.

They finally stopped a quarter to three at a gelato stand by the small fountain of a leaping fish in District 3. The old woman refused any coin from Nicolas’s hand, her brown weather-beaten face smiling in deep satisfaction as she gave them two generous bowls of stracciatella.

“Thank you,” Alex said gratefully, cupping the cool plastic bowl with both hands and resisting the temptation to press it against her sweaty forehead. “Really, this looks marvelous.”

“Won’t hear of payment from those boys,” the old woman said, wiping her hands with a wet rag. “Not after they helped my son get his head on straight after messing with Family business.”

Nicolas shrugged and then wandered off towards the fountain, pink plastic spoon sticking out from the corner of his mouth. He still had one final paper bag tucked in the crook of his arm, the paper note pinned to it fluttering faintly.

Alex gave the woman an apologetic smile before trotting over towards the fountain; Nicolas had stopped by the edge, peering down at the clear green burbling water, the bottom of the fountain glimmering brightly from the reflected light of a thousand small coins. The last delivery shifted a little in his grip and Alex could make out enough of the label: _Bastard’s_.

“Ah,” she breathed out with a huff, a little disappointed not to see _Big Mama_ or the name of her brothel, _Pussy’s_. She kicked out against the stone edge of the fountain idly, brushing against Nicolas’s side.

Nicolas turned towards her, eyebrow raised. There was a white smudge of gelato on his bottom lip. _Coin?_ he gestured awkwardly with one hand, the other holding onto the bowl.

Alex looked at him blankly.

Nicolas dropped the bag and bowl of gelato gently down onto the ground, then fished out something from his pocket. He held his hand out to Alex, a small silver coin resting in the curve of his calloused palm. His fingers were long and knobbly at the joints, criss-crossed with hundreds of small little nicks and scars, and one long jagged scar that cut across the life line of his palm.

The coin gleamed, a circle of glittering light against the warmth of his skin.

“You want to...make… wish…?” he asked slowly, awkwardly.

“I…” Alex began, then trailed off uncertainly, unsure how to explain her thoughts, both in speech and sign. She considered the outstretched hand, Nicolas’s questioning look, and the white smudge on his bottom lip, unsure how to make sense of her own muddled thoughts, her desires.

“I’ve never actually done this before,” she said finally. “Or if I did, I don’t-- I don’t remember.”

Nicolas nodded, once, simply, then reached out and placed the silver coin in Alex’s free hand, his hands curling over her’s. They stayed together like that, their combined heat imbuing the metal coin with warmth.

 _Together_ , Nicolas fingerspelled quickly in the air.

Alex nodded and they turned their backs to their fountain, their hands joined together in between. One finger tap against her wrist, two, then three--

They tossed the coin into the air in one smooth motion and it spun in the air like a tiny shooting star, hitting the waters of the fountain with a small, clean splash. Alex turned around quickly, searching the bottom of the fountain for the coin, _their_ coin, but it was lost amongst thousands others.

“Hm,” she said, her hand feeling oddly cold and light now that it lay free and unencumbered by her side. She tapped his shoulder, making sure to meet his eyes.

“What did you wish for?”

Nicolas shook his head swiftly, then pressed a finger against his lips. Secret.

“I see,” Alex said, smiling. “Well, I guess I’ll keep mine a secret too then.” She almost turned away, but her gaze was caught again by the white smudge on his mouth.

“Oh, hang on,” she muttered, licked her thumb, then reached up to wipe it off. At her touch, Nicolas stilled completely, his eyes widening a fraction as the pad of her thumb brushed gently against the soft skin of his bottom lip.

“There,” she breathed, “it’s all gone.”

They were close enough that their breath intermingled, the beat of his heart almost palpable as she leaned against him. He had beautiful black eyes, the irises almost indistinguishable from his pupils, with long delicate lashes that were at odds with the sharp lines of his cheekbones and the keen edge of his broad jaw.

“Sorry,” Alex said abruptly and jerked away, pulling back into herself. “You just had-- you had something on your mouth.” She wiped her hand on the front of her dress and stepped to the side. “We have one more delivery before we’re done, right?”

Nicolas blinked, then seemed to come back to himself. He nodded stiffly, then bent down and picked up the last brown paper bag, and the soupy mess of his half-eaten bowl of gelato. They passed by the old woman at the stand; she gave them a sly wink and a grin that Nicolas resolutely ignored.

She followed Nicolas’s broad back as he cut easily through the crowds and considered the fading warmth of his hand, clasped in hers.

Alex craned her neck back, catching one last glimpse of the fountain, before it vanished behind a crowd of people. _I wish… I wish for more days like this, together…_

Ahead of her, Nicolas turned around and waved at her impatiently. _Let’s go!_

“I’m coming!” she called out, her mouth tugging up in a smile, and left the fountain behind, holding the wish close to her heart.


End file.
